


Ace of Hearts

by Pop_Punk_Jolras



Category: The Hunger Games (Movies)
Genre: F/F, High School AU, Mentions of Sex, Smooching, asexual katniss, mentions of peeta and gale
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-25
Updated: 2015-04-25
Packaged: 2018-03-25 17:54:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,369
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3819571
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pop_Punk_Jolras/pseuds/Pop_Punk_Jolras
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Everything is going great up until the point where Johanna Mason reaches for the hem of my top</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ace of Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> been experiencing writer's block so i thought i'd write about some girls smooching (ﾉ◕ヮ◕)ﾉ*:･ﾟ✧ find me on tumblr at enjoy-ass

 

Everything is going great up until the point where Johanna Mason reaches for the hem of my top.  We’ve been curled up in my bed for about twenty minutes now, or at least that’s what the clock tells me. The clock tells me it’s been twenty minutes, but it feels like hours. Not in a bad way—not in a _oh my god this make-out session is so awful it feels like it’s been just dragging on_ kind of way—but in an _I’m walking on air and time isn’t a thing that seems to exist_ kind of way. I’ve kissed boys before. Well, two. But kissing Peeta felt like an act and kissing Gale was like kissing your cousin.

 

Kissing Johanna is different. I can’t explain it.

 

Okay, actually, I can explain it. Her lips are forceful but soft, but hesitant; like she’s going for what she wants but she’s taking it slow because she’s still not sure if I want it too. Her skin is silky but her palms are calloused from softball practice. Her hair smells like grass and sweat and dirt. She smells like the Earth cracked open. When Gale kissed me behind the bleachers after track practice, he stunk of the same natural odor that makes Johanna smell so organic and raw. And touching his back through his damp jersey was gross, whereas when I place a hand on the dip of Johanna’s back and feel the moisture collecting on the curve of her spine, it just makes her body smoother.

 

She moves like a cat.  A good cat. Not like Buttercup, who just hisses at me and waddles around; she’s skinny and slinky and graceful, both on the field and between my legs. She’s got one hand on my cheek and the other on my hip, and I don’t really know what to do with myself. She’s not holding me down. She’s cradling me. Kissing guys is like…they have their arms around you, yeah, but they’re squeezing, trying to keep you close so you don’t run away. Johanna kisses me like she wants me close but also wants to give me space so I can decide.

 

I shift my legs and my foot lands on the plate of cookies my mom made me bring up when I we went to study. Because that’s what we’re supposed to be doing, and I suddenly become very aware of where my body is; I’m laying on textbooks and notepads and pencils and highlighters (and a plate of cookies) and softball star Johanna Mason is between my legs with her hands and her mouth all over me. And I’m enjoying it. The intimacy. It doesn’t feel like I have to perform, like I did when I dated Peeta (there was a constant need to pretend that I was enjoying something I wasn’t). It just feels. Normal. Okay, no, it feels a little weird actually, so I can’t call it normal, more like: natural. It feels natural. And it’s not violent or hot or sexy, it’s just…kissing. We’re kissing.

 

I am kissing Johanna Mason from my algebra class. I don’t even like algebra. And Johanna doesn’t even like me. I don’t think. Or, I didn’t think, because clearly she’s got to like me a little bit in order to be kissing me. Then again, I didn’t like Gale when I kissed him. Not in a kissing way. But Johanna likes me in a kissing way.

 

And I like kissing her. I can’t say I like her because I haven’t really let myself think about it, but I like the kissing part so I guess that means that I could learn to like her too. In the movies when people kiss, it’s like their heads go blank and nothing exists, but that’s not what kissing is really like. When you’re kissing someone, you can’t stop thinking. Your brain is going a mile a minute and you’re suddenly hyper-aware of your bodies and where you are in space. It’s not floating. It’s being grounded, hooked in and rooted to the ground. Sometimes you think about the most unrelated things; like what you’re having for dinner or asking yourself how birds know how to get south for the winter. Like, is it programmed into them? Is the knowledge passed down from generation to generation? Do they always migrate to the same place? Or do they have some internal compass that tells them where south is and they bullshit it from there?  Do they come back to the same place when spring comes? Is the bird that sits outside my window the same bird that sat on my window last spring? Or do they just look alike?

 

“Hey. Brainless.”  Apparently I’ve had my eyes closed because when I open them I see Johanna kneeling between my legs and grinning at me. She’s got one hand under my shirt and the contrast between my dark and her pale skin is really striking. I like the way it looks. She taps my tummy with her fingertips. “Yo. Come on, seriously. Is this okay?”

 

I’ve kissed both Peeta and Gale and neither have ever asked if something was okay.

 

“Um…” Her eyebrows are up but her eyes are patient and soft. I’ve never seen her with that look in her eyes before; they usually look hard and sharp. Impatient. Annoyed. Even angry. But right now she looks a little…nervous? I lift my foot off the plate of cookies and touch my toes to my comforter. “I don’t really like sex,” I tell her honestly, and then cringe. I’ve never told anyone that, not even myself. It kind of just came out? I mean, I guess it’s true, but it’s weird to hear it in my voice and it kind of hangs in the air.

 

Johanna stares at me for a second and I can feel my face getting hot. She slides her hand out from under my shirt and sets it on my elbow. “Okay.”

 

“I—Okay?”

 

“Yeah,” she says, “Okay.” She slides out from between my legs and flops down to lay on her tummy. “Is it like, does it gross you out? Or does it hurt or something? Or do you just not like it? I mean, you don’t have to answer or anything. It’s cool.”

 

I haven’t really thought about it before. I mean, it’s not exactly repulsive as much as I just don’t…get it? Like I don’t understand the appeal of having another person touch those particular parts of my body; or me touching those particular parts of my body. “I don’t know,” I tell her, sitting up and pushing the plate of cookies aside, “I mean, I just. I’m kind of neutral about it? Or indifferent? Like it just doesn’t really make too much sense to me. The appeal, I mean.” I feel like I’m being interviewed or something the way she nods slowly, silently asking me to continue. “I just don’t really have any interest in  it.”

 

“So you’ve never had sex and you already know you don’t like it?” She doesn’t ask it in a judgmental kind of way. Just kind of a curious one? “So you don’t want to have sex like, ever? That’s cool, I mean, I can respect that. It’s not as fun as it looks anyways.”

 

I wrinkle my nose. “It doesn’t look very fun to me.”

 

She laughs and rolls over onto her back, staring up at the ceiling. “It’s not. Like, at all. It’s all messy. Especially with guys. They’re just gross and they make really ugly faces. So trust me, you’re lucky. You’re saving yourself a lot of fucking up and not a lot of fucking. “

 

“Johanna?”

 

“Yeah, Brainless?”

 

“Why did you kiss me?”

 

She shrugs. “I wanted to, and I thought you wanted to too. Was it okay?”

 

I shrug too. “It was okay. I wanted to too.”

 

She reaches for one of the cookies and takes a bite. “Cool.”

 

“My sock was on that.”

 

“I’ve literally had a penis in my mouth before, Katniss,” she says dryly, her mouth full, and snickers when I make a face, “I think I can handle some sock cookies.”


End file.
